Stress ball

I stress out about the dumbest things. And when I say dumb, I mean Dumb and Dumberer: When Harry Met Lloyd-level dumb (completely bypassing the original Dumb and Dumber).

For example: my kid’s soccer practice. This year he has a commitment on Wednesday afternoon. So naturally, it just happens that I get an email from the coach saying the team practice will be on Wednesday afternoons. I email the coach saying that my kid won’t be able to make that time. Is there any way to change the day? Or put him on another team?

The coach says he’ll put him on another team. Ok, cool.

I get an email from my OTHER kid’s soccer coach saying THEIR practice will be on Wednesdays. I start to freak out, which is, if you haven’t noticed by now, a recurring theme in my life.

I write the original coach back, asking if it’s too late for my kid to just remain on the original team and be a little late to practice. The coach writes back that it’s too late; he’s already been switched. His email contains no salutation, no closing, and no friendly exclamation points. I’m convinced he officially hates me.

So THEN I get an email from the NEW team coach. And when are their practices? You got it. Wednesdays. But at a WORSE time.

I am beside myself. I’ve sent out more emails, trying to resolve the situation. I am so stressed out you would think I was negotiating the Treaty of Versailles.

What did I tell you. Totally DUMB.

Image from The Village Voice.